Batman: Absolution
by Arachnidious
Summary: A sudden string of murders is just what our Dark Knight needs, but what happens when the perpetrator is revealed to be an exact version of notorious serial killer Michael Myers? Batman is put to the ultimate test, both psychologically and physically, as he fights to survive the unexpected arrival of the psychotic murderer, the problem? Nothing can hurt him!
1. Nostalgic Murderer

Nostalgic Murderer

On a cloudy Gotham night, an unknown assailant stalked his prey much like a predator in wild does his innocent victim. His butcher knife glinted in the moonlight with an ominous flash of light, eager and waiting to taste flesh. The victim was rather ordinary looking, but such appearances weren't meant to deter; rather, the woman walking home that night would be the first of many, the twisted Eve of forthcoming deaths. A sudden gust of wind picked up, forcing the pedestrian to pick up a brisk pace to avoid the chill of the night air. During a brief period of silence, she could hear someone breathing heavily behind her, not in exhaustion but in anticipation. Startled, the woman turned around to try and pinpoint the source, only to be met with a thick fog and the telltale hoot of an owl. This distraction proved to be a fatal mistake, as the mysterious figure suddenly crept up behind her with the grace of a skilled criminal. Upon turning back around, steel met flesh as a blood curdling scream resounded off the concrete jungle walls, only to fall into dead silence a moment later.

The body slumped to the ground with a thump. The killer wiped off the blood of the woman on the leggings of his jumpsuit and then proceeded to pick her up and carry her into a nearby alleyway where he dumped her body in a garbage bin, only stopping to make sure to inflict her body with bruises so as to throw off suspicion and make it appear as though she were an unfortunate attraction for sexual assault. Satisfied, he walked away at a consistently methodical pace, as if he had no care in the world.

Come morning, the woman's body was discovered by the local authorities and taken for an autopsy as soon as the preliminary details were taken care of. James Gordon also happened to be on the scene of the crime, and was thoroughly surprised that no one had heard or seen this poor woman being molested, at least, that's what it looked like to him. But he knew better than to trust in first impressions, he learned from the best, after all.

"Hey, Comish! I've got that autopsy you's was asking for." Gordon was brought out of his musings when Harvey Bullock barged in his office, eating a donut. '_As usual', _thought James, and waving around the report like it was the most important thing in the world. Gordon sighed, and scrubbed his mustache with his finger, all the while gazing at his second in command with a degree of both annoyance and relief. He waved for Harvey to close the door to his office.

"Close the door Bullock, what I'm about to say can't leave this room and I trust you to be discreet. Is that understood, detective?"

The rotund man swallowed the last piece of his donut and licked his fingers clean before fixing the Commissioner with a look of keen attention, "Go ahead Comish, I'm all ears. Just don't start saying we need to bring in the Bat on this one. I think we can handle it without his interference." James raised a brow at Harvey, clearly astonished that the sarcastic man would even think to suggest that that was what he wanted to say. He even told him so, which elicited an embarrassed laugh from the usually tough and suave cop.

The Commissioner shook his head in disbelief, "Bullock, I'll make myself clear on something, first and foremost. The Batman is a trusted ally, and the sooner we admit that he is better suited to most situations than we are, the sooner we can clean the streets of Gotham." Harvey Bullock bore a scowl on his face; he had never liked the pointy-eared freak and had always assumed him to be the real reason they had such wackos in Gotham to begin with, but the Comish's word was law, and as an underling, he was inclined to listen.

Slowly, he nodded and grabbed a chair to sit down; this was going to be a long night.

Elsewhere, the screeches of bats could be heard as a man dressed like fear itself sat rigidly at a supercomputer only known as the "Batcomputer" to all those who had the privilege of ever working with the Batman. He was diligently filling out reports, and cross references, meanwhile, emotionally berating himself. '_If I had been patrolling an hour longer…' _his fingers stilled, as his nostrils flared and his countenance suddenly erupted into intense silence. '_She shouldn't have died, she didn't need to die, I'm sorry… Mother and Father, the very thing I fought to prevent over the years has come to pass without my vigil, I'm a failure…' _Someone cleared their throat whilst he had been brooding; he glanced upward to look into the steely eyes of his butler, advisor, confidant and surrogate father figure, Alfred Pennyworth.

"Alfred," he simply said, as if it was all that was needed to be addressed, the latter man nodded, accepting that his charge didn't feel like making small talk; nevertheless, there was a matter that needed to be addressed.

"Sir, if I may be so bold, I am neither a superhero nor a soldier, so I am hardly qualified to judge your criticism on that account." Bruce's lips thinned in quiet contemplation, the glow of the computer's screen cast his face in both darkness and light, shrouding his face in shadows.

"I failed last night, Alfred. I could have saved her, but I didn't." Simple and to the point as he always was, it was a marvel that the butler had the patience to put up with the man who dressed up like a bat.

The former British intelligence officer clasped his hands behind his back in a formal but professional stance as he stared back at the young man, "Master Bruce, I'll have you know, you're only one man." True as it were, Bruce Wayne's thoughts went far deeper than that, he teetered on the abyss, which gave birth to the Bat, but also took so much from him. Unpredictably, before either man could continue the discussion, an incoming voice call sounded on the supercomputer. Not expecting the abrupt interruption, he didn't react quickly enough to answer the call. So it was up to Alfred to accept the incoming transmission, "Ah, Miss Barbra, what a pleasant surprise." The original Batgirl gave off a small chuckle when she recognized that the older man had been giving her mentor another talk.

"Alfred, is Bruce in the right state of mind to talk right now?" Quickly glancing at his employer, who had quickly stopped moping around and now permeated focus, Alfred affirmed that he was all right. Taking over with practiced ease, Bruce put the cowl back over his head and activated the video feed, "Batman here. What's your status, Oracle?"

On Barbra's end of the video feed, only her face was visible, as everything else was out of sight, she sighed heavily before launching straight into reporting her status, "So far, the GCPD has confirmed the time of death, and cause of death, but it's weird. She was found with bruises on her body as if she had been assaulted. Police are stumped."

Resting his fist on his chin, Bruce took in all the information while his analytical mind broke down the facts and recompiled them into logical scenarios. "She wasn't molested. I think our perpetrator inflicted those bruises on her after he killed her." Now it was starting to make sense to her, but she had to ask, "Why would he do that? She was already dead. It doesn't make any sense."

Her father had called her soon after they had discovered the body and told her not to go out at night alone. She asked him why, and he told her, '_"Barb honey, she was young. Not much older than you. What if it was you there, and not her?"'_ She tried to reassure him that she could take care of herself, but he was adamant about keeping her safe. She was brought out of her thoughts just in time to hear Bruce's explanation, "It was just a diversion, something to throw people off. The real cause of death occurred much before the bruising. Has Commissioner Gordon said anything yet?" This was when she remembered her father mentioning how this particular case reminded him of another one; back when he was still a street cop. "He hasn't said anything publicly, but he did bring it up at dinner. Says it reminded him of another murder case back in 1978."

Scratching his chin, Bruce turned to Alfred temporarily and questioned him with his eyes; the butler shook his head, to signify that he didn't know of such a case. How could he? He was still in England at the time. Feeling somewhat discouraged, he turned his attention back to Barbara, and said, "I'll have to ask Jim for more details, then. Thank you, Oracle." He disconnected the call soon after that and stood up from his chair, stretching his back muscles as he did so.

By the time the time the clock struck midnight, Batman was prowling the streets of Gotham; keeping a vigilant eye on every citizen he could set his eyes on, and making sure to scan every alley and rooftop with his cowl's augmented visionary tracker. He stopped to perch himself on top of a gargoyle, one of Gotham's many unusual architectural wonders, to survey his surroundings. '_Just peachy, right when I'm around, he isn't. Where did he go? Perhaps I should head back to the source… and scan for any heat signatures within the last 24 hours.' _With that thought in mind, Batman fired his grapnel and took off into the air, leaving a trail of swooshing wind in his wake.

The crime scene looked almost menacing when he arrived at the alley where her body was found. Tapping into detective mode, he calibrated the cowl to only pick up heat signatures within the last 24 hours, only to find that nothing happened. Frowning, he elected to do it the old fashioned way, while looking through the garbage bin, there in his peripheral vision, he noticed a piece of cloth. It was so small he almost could have missed it if it wasn't for his keen eyesight and so walking over, he examined the evidence. It came from a blouse, he could still smell a faint trace of perfume. '_Good, I can analyze this back at the Bat Cave and create a list of possible retailers who may sell this brand.' _It was a start, and the World's greatest detective considered this a victory over many to come. Unexpectedly, he felt as if his personal barrier had been broken; someone was watching him, but he didn't see anyone, he opted to activate his detective mode to try and locate his sudden stalker. Unbeknownst to him, this was the murderer, and he had been watching the Batman's every move since he had started patrolling the streets of Gotham. A blot of color appeared in his midst, and the caped crusader took off sprinting in the direction he saw the heat signature. The killer by this point saw the masked vigilante coming his way, and took off at a brisk pace, but never broke out into a run. '_Surely he can't be serious, he'll never outmaneuver me at the speed he's going.' _With a quick burst of speed, the 210-pound man tackled the killer. Quickly turning the other man around, he wasn't prepared for the sight that would greet him. His eyes widened, making the white lenses of his cowl expand in a comical way, and his grip slackened. The killer was sporting a white mask, it looked almost evil in Bruce's eyes, and if it wasn't for all the villains he had had to deal with up until this point, he almost could have been afraid,_ almost_ but not quite. Unfortunately, while he had been distracted, the killer quickly took the opportunity to stab Batman in his side, causing the former man to grasp his side in sudden pain and to grit his teeth, however, his Kevlar armor took most of the trauma. Seizing the chance, the man in the white mask rose to his feet systematically and attempted to finish the job. Years of training and physical and mental discipline were what saved Bruce's life in that split second. He blocked the knife attack with his gauntlets and punched the murderer in the face, causing an indentation in the mask. Acting fast, Batman stunned him with a spinning cape sweep, followed by a direct discombobulating that left the killer in a frenzy of confusion, he swung around madly with his butcher knife, creating arcs of sound. Batman dodged all of them with little to no effort. When the killer's senses finally began to clear up again, Batman performed a spinning roundhouse kick, knocking the wind out of the other man. Once on the ground, all it took was a quick takedown, one punch aimed to the head and the perpetrator was out cold.

James Gordon was tiredly looking over case files, and signing papers, the usual work of a Police Commissioner, when he sensed a presence in the room. Not seeing anyone, Jim called out, "Even after all these years, I still don't know how you can just materialize like that."

Stepping out of the shadows of the room, Batman strolled over to Gordon's desk, "Evening Commissioner." He chose the vague approach tonight, after leaving the killer handcuffed to a police cruiser in front of the GCPD, Batman had notified the nearest officer, who happened to be Harvey Bullock. Leaving the cop to deal with the delivery, Batman made his way into James' office while said man was too distracted to notice his door opening.

"Batman," the Commissioner acknowledged, "It's a good thing you're here. There's something I want to show you." Batman trailed behind Gordon as the older man crossed to his filing cabinet and started searching through files, finally, he pulled one free; it was dated the year 1978. His interest piqued, he watched as Gordon walked back over to his desk and sat back down again. "You weren't old enough, but I remember it like it was yesterday. Four gruesome killings, which took place in Haddonfield, Illinois. Escaped patient Michael Myers was behind it all. Tragic really. Did you know he killed his own sister, Judith Myers, when he was six?" This was certainly an interesting development, but why did Gordon bring up an old murder case? "You think the killings bear a resemblance to the killing that took place last night?" Batman usually fitted together a connection very quickly, but he just couldn't see how Gordon pieced this together. "It's not the killing itself that strikes me as odd, it's the motive. It's unlike anything I've ever seen, even by Gotham standards."

Batman nodded, accepting the Commissioner's explanation, there was definitely something off here. Most of Gotham's notorious serial killers didn't hide their identities, and they especially weren't captured so easily. "Jim, I've managed to incapacitate our killer, right now he's in Harvey Bullock's care. Finalize the preliminary details and have him transferred to Arkham, Blackgate Penitentiary isn't secure enough."

He turned to leave, trusting Gordon to do his part but before he could make his famous disappearing act, "Batman wait. There's something else."

Turning back around to give the police Commissioner his undue attention, "What is it Jim?" If Gordon wanted him to do something, he would do it. No other cop showed as much compassion as James Gordon did on the night of his parents' murder. This made the Commissioner a valued friend and Bruce would do anything to repay his kindness even if he had trouble expressing it in words. Jim extended the case file to Batman, which documented everything that was legally required of a murder case, along with a psychological profiling, "Take this with you, I want you to look into it. I realize I could be wrong on this one, so you should try and see if you can't find a connection between the homicides. I'll sleep easier tonight; trust m—" when the seasoned detective looked up, the caped crusader had disappeared. "…And I'm talking to myself again. One of these days I'm going to nail his cape to the floor."


	2. Haddonfield, Illinois

Haddonfield, Illinois

Haddonfield, Illinois was a respectable ground for the tradition of Halloween, even on days where the holiday wasn't on date; the area carried with it… a terrifying feel. Passerby were scarce to be seen in and around the neighborhoods, however, the city housed all sorts of strange people. The sight that greeted our dear Dark Knight was a mystifying one, each and every resident of the county were milling about, transfixed on a news station not too far from where he had landed the Batwing, after a long and tiring flight (he had yet to sleep, and the rays of the sun had just come up), moreover, no one had since noticed him, attentive as they were, on the broadcasting program.

_"The notorious serial killer Michael Myers, who was rumored to have murdered his 15 year old sister on the night of 1963, and who once again struck terror in the hearts of Haddonfield occupants 15 years later, was recently subdued and incarcerated. Further details have yet to be announced, but his psychiatrist is scheduled for an interview this afternoon. Stay tuned folks. Haddonfield News County out."_

Quickly cycling through the 1978 case file, Batman located the exact information he was looking for, this Michael Myers indeed had a psychiatrist, and for 15 years it said. Unfortunately, it gave no such details on what his name was _This is going to slow me down, I need to find this man once it gets dark, in the meantime, I should focus on staying out of sight _finding a narrow alleyway, Batman moved out of sight and into the dim shadows, he would have to wait until nightfall.

A couple hours later, he detected a disturbance in the vicinity, someone was indeed watching him and whoever they were, they obviously didn't want to be seen. Taking out his grapnel, he fired up to a nearby tree to get a better vantage point over his surroundings, only to be met with a false alarm. It was just a child, no older than he was when he-no, he had an objective to fulfill… he would brood later. The child stared up at him in both awe and fear, he wouldn't blame him, and Batman had a frightful presence for a good reason. Deciding to make small talk, Batman jumped off the tree branch he had been perched to and landed with a silent thump, the child backed up some, even though he was behind a fence, the sudden movement surprised him. In the gentlest tone he could muster, "Don't be afraid, I won't hurt you." There was something about the innocence of children that he fought hard to preserve, since he himself had been robbed of such innocence, he only hoped this child's virtue had been spared.

Uncharacteristic of him, he offered the child a genuine smile, it was the smallest of smiles, barely detectable from a distance but the child perceived it to be true, "Why are you dressed up funny?" his eyes shined with childlike curiosity, Bruce would have laughed if the situation were any different, but as it happened, his privilege of happiness had been stolen from him years ago. Instead, he knelt down to the child's height "Have you ever read comic books?" there was a degree of the charismatic playboy in that tone to put the child at ease but it still contained the gruffness of the Bat. The boy nodded enthusiastically, "Then you must be a superhero! Like Superman! He's the best!"

Inside Bruce Wayne's mind, a struggle was permitting, a struggle not to glare, though he was very close to Superman, they couldn't be any more different. Nevertheless, "Yes. Like Superman. Do you know who I am?" Frowning, the boy shook his head, it was to be expected, Batman wasn't exactly an icon or a beacon of hope like the Son of Krypton was, "I'm Batman." His stomach growled unexpectedly, when was his last meal? He lost track if he wanted to keep his strength up he needed to eat. Batman turned to walk out of sight, trusting the boy to not hold any hard feelings at his abrupt departure, when he felt a taut sensation, the boy had grabbed onto his cape rather tightly "Don't go" he whispered "What if the boogeyman comes back and no one's here to protect me?" Bruce's ears perked up at the boy's use of "boogeyman", his sharp analytical mind instantly made the connection, _He has quite the reputation, and he must be very formidable. I can't underestimate him. _

"Having a little fear is a good thing." He had once told his ward Tim Drake the very same thing, and in the exact same words, it was just after the Scarecrow's fear gas became "unfear" gas, Bruce had been dosed with it while undercover, he thought he could handle it, but he was wrong. He almost killed someone, something he swore never to do.

Whatever the child was about to say, he never got to say it, his parents had called him back inside, and the boy was hesitant to leave his new friend all by himself, "You don't have to stay, go back inside. It's not safe out here." With a final look and a tiny wave, the boy went back inside.

Batman departed soon after, it was starting to get dark and he needed to get some supplies from the Batwing before exploring Smith's Grove Sanitarium.

Once upon nightfall, Batman's boots made contact with the mental hospital's rooftop, carefully examining his options, took out a multi-tool and loosened out the screws of a dilapidated air vent. Prying open the vent, he ventured inside, being careful to make as little noise as possible lest the security become alerted to rat infestation. Finally, after many twists, turns and backtracks, Batman found an empty room that was relatively dark, if anyone came in, they wouldn't see him. Switching on a flashlight, he began searching the room, while being mindful to put back objects in the way he found them.

It was a good while before he found anything relevant to his investigation, as luck would have it, this used to be the notorious serial killer's quarters, and the details were found on a clipboard with a list of all known patients to have stayed in that room. Michael Myers was the only one on the list for some strange reason or another, next to the patient's name; there was a list of medicine which were administered to him, namely Thorazine and Oxytocin. Batman stored away this information for any potential uses _I'll need to get a sample of the medicine, should I encounter him_

The door squeaked open while the Dark Knight was in his musings, "Who's there!?" Batman turned to the source of the interruption; it was a security guard on his nightly patrols. "Stay where you are! Don't move!" Said security guard fumbled about with his walkie-talkie, attempting to enlist protocol assistance but before he could get it working to the right frequency, he crumpled to the guard like a rag doll as Batman forcefully tapped the side of his head, knocking the guard unconscious, the poor man never even saw it coming.

With ease, he dragged the guard's body into the room and checked his pulse, it was steady and even, a signature notification that the man was asleep and with the severity of the attack, he wouldn't be getting up any time soon.

Checking for any nearby security personnel, Batman silently made his way out of the serial killer's room.

_"Did you hear the news? I can't believe it! The Michael Myers actually in prison? How long do you think until the psycho breaks out?"_

_"Don't get so jittery John, it was only a matter of time until that freak of nature was captured."_

_"No way man, you don't know what it was like when I was a kid, we couldn't even go out at night. I'm telling you, he's not human!"_

_"Whatever have it your way. He's just one man, I'm sure a maximum prison can hold him. Though if it makes you feel any better, his psychiatrist, Dr. Samuel Loomis reassured everyone that he was administered Thorazine, and will be monitored daily. Now quit moaning and keep your eyes peeled, I wanna get home early tonight."_

With their conversation concluded, neither guard had noticed the shadowy and imposing figure quietly slip away, with nary a sound under his feet.

Once outside Smith's Grove Sanitarium, the masked vigilante activated his communication's link to get in touch with Barbra Gordon, the Police Commissioner's daughter "Oracle, I need you to run every background check and cross reference you can on one Dr. Samuel Loomis and upload it to the Batcomputer, I'll also need you to relay the information directly to me. It's time I pay him a visit."

Barbra barely had time to react when she answered his call; he at once launched into his orders and ended the transmission. _Typical Bruce _she thought. She quickly dialed Dick's number and waited for him to pick up, only to receive his answering machine "You've reached the Grayson residence, unfortunately, I'm not at home right now but please feel free to leave a message, I'll give you a call later." Just what she needed, was Bludhaven really as bad as Gotham, or was Dick sleeping again?

Hours later, she had finally managed to extract every bit of information she could on this Loomis guy, she was just about to give Bruce a call when suddenly she heard something, it sounded like footsteps, she turned around in her wheelchair, hoping to catch whoever it was that was in the clock tower with her, seeing nothing, she turned back around and made some final touch ups on those reports she had written up. There it was again, those footsteps, whoever they were, they clearly knew how to stay quiet. Just when she was about to give up, she the outline of a muscular looking man "Dick, is that you?" coming out of the shadows, said man was revealed to be exactly who she had anticipated "Hey Barb, thought I'd drop by. You gave me a call a few hours ago, and I figured it must have been important. You almost never call me unless it's dire, so what's up?" Sighing heavily, and rubbing her arms, it was a cold night "So instead of calling me back like a normal person, you come all the way here, I'm not sure if I should be flattered or peeved. Probably both." Dick Grayson, also known as Nightwing, gave her a cheeky grin which almost made her insides melt from the warm sensation she felt "I was raised by tall, dark and gruesome, I can never be normal." And he laughed, not at her, but at the absurdity of being raised by a man who dressed as a giant bat at night, and then having everyone else tell him that he was normal. Barbra wanted to swat at his arm, and she would have too, if she still had the use of her legs. "Dick" she told him "Yes?" he said, "Why exactly are you here? Because I know for a fact, it's not just because I called you. So spill Romeo."

Back in Haddonfield, Batman had just received the direct information to Loomis' address, and so mounting the Batwing he went east, in the direction of the Psychiatrist's home. Moments later, after descending and camouflaging his Batwing, he made his way over to the man's residence. Picking the lock to a window, the Dark Knight slipped inside and was mindful to close the window behind him before a breeze rustled the papers scattered all over a desk to his right and would alert the Psychiatrist to his arrival.

Unfortunately, he had underestimated the elderly man's keen sense of awareness and overall ability to remain un-phased even when face to face with someone like himself, Samuel Loomis had walked into the room and switched on the light before the billionaire playboy had time to leave the room "If you think, for a moment that that getup you're sporting is going to scare me, think again." The serial killer's doctor certainly knew how to handle bizarre situations, and Batman was probably no worse for wear than the elusive boogeyman that had captured Jim Gordon's attention the other day. As if seeking protection, Bruce wrapped his long cape around his body in the hopes of giving off an intimidating stance; the former psychiatrist raised a brow at the younger man's antics.

"I could go on and on picking your psyche apart, but I sense you're not here to book an appointment. What do you want?"

Batman's face set into a determined and serious stone as he eyed the much shorter man and ignored the way his eyebrow had shot up in silent amusement, taking out the case file, he tossed it to the doctor's feet, "Michael Myers, born October 31st 1957, suddenly suffers a psychotic breakdown and murders his sister on Halloween. Is sent to Smith's Grove Sanitarium, and becomes your patient for 15 years, then at the age of 21, he breaks out and resumes his sadistic activities." Loomis in turn narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the way he was being looked at, "I didn't let him escape, I gave strict orders for his incarceration to be permanent. But no one would listen to me, they thought he could be cured of his savagery but when I looked into his eyes, I saw the blackest eyes, the devil's eyes and I knew, there was no curing him." Suddenly grasping onto the Kevlar of his costume, Loomis' voice raised in octaves "He's not human! So whatever you do, don't go seeking him out. It'll be your death wish."

Batman pried Loomis' hands off the chest of his costume, retrieved the case file from off the ground and turned to leave the elderly man to his own devices but he didn't make it far enough, "Who are you?" the Psychiatrist asked. Eyes narrowing into thin slits resembling that of a reptilian, Batman marched up to him, "I am vengeance, I am the night, I'm Batman!" while not shouting, his voice boomed with confidence. Loomis wasn't at all impressed by his presentation and he told him just that, which prompted the dark looking figure to oppose, "An elusive boogeyman is the least of my worries Doctor, fear created me." He left Loomis staring after his retreating figure,_Maybe I underestimated him _he thought.


End file.
